


Inbetween Two Worlds

by Motion_of_the_ocean



Series: It Ended With A Kiss [2]
Category: hannigram - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:40:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Motion_of_the_ocean/pseuds/Motion_of_the_ocean
Summary: This story takes off on it's own after season 1, episode 7. Hannibal decides on whether he should tell Will how he feels, or tell him that he's the Chesapeake Ripper. Will has a few choices to make. But there is romance.





	

Such a thing; to change his opinion about Hannibal Lecter within their second meeting. But his hostility towards him lessened over a longer period of time; aware that Hannibal held himself in a deliberate way, wound tight. And in talking to Hannibal, he seemed well put together emotionally; stability seemed like the essence of him. But the man had a gentle voice, not patronizing, his nature soothed him.  
Jack called in Will with Beverly at his side; surprised to see Hannibal craning over images of the Chesapeake Ripper's latest rips. They looked at Jack from behind the desk simultaneously.  
'Dr. Lecter, would you care to help us catch the ripper?'  
Hannibal tilts his head suspiciously, but mostly curiously.  
'How could i refuse?;' Will looks at him, then back in Jack and Beverly's general direction. They were off. To catch a lead that started in an ambulance; Beverly noted that she could find where it was if the radio was on with the D.F sweep. Hannibal leaned into Will's direction at this, saying:  
'This is very educational.'  
Will gave him a little smile of acknowledgement, but it was enough for Hannibal; he was growing fond of Will's tendency to perceive him in any airy way. Will has a very peaceful way of approaching life, he thinks.  
Even approaching the ambulance with a killer inside it , has not changed Will's calm face. And as Jack opens it's back doors with a large gun ready, his squad and team brace themselves.  
there in the back is Devon Sylvestri; playing around in some unconscious man. His hands were bloody and his eyes were black; like his eyes were taking in a sight too heavy and curious for them to bear. But he appeared to be so calm with his task.; stealing someone's kidney, to make money for medical school. At this point Hannibal is still in the shadows with Will. but Jack yells:  
'Dr. Lecter.'  
Hannibal knows when he's needed. He quickly glides forth while Will follows behind, and Jack tells him that he needs him to "address the situation".  
Someone could have laughed at the flippancy of the phrase if they heard it, Hannibal almost did; empathizing with how he casually addresses these kind of situations as well.  
He gets into the back, looking curiously at what Devon was doing; like he wanted to smile, but he couldn't while he was wearing his human veil. As he felt Devon's knowing vibe, he leaned over him, and he recognized someone with the same knack for the curious things in life as himself.  
'He was trying to remove his kidney's, poorly'. He states. 'I can stop the bleeding'.  
'Do it.' Jack says.  
Hannibal quickly takes off his suit jacket, causing Will to feel some niggling feeling inside that made him give his attention. Hannibal started rolling up his sleeves and sitting down to help replace Devon's hands with his own.  
'Have you got it?' Jack asks.  
'I've got it'.  
Then Jack ordered Devon out of the front of the van with his hands up.; Jack's gun looked powerful, and right now Devon felt like a trapped animal, spotted. Nowhere to go but on his knees, and try not to get blood in his hair. Now Hannibal had elbow room to use tools, and properly stop the bleeding. Will took a few steps forward to watch in curiousity, and for some other unknown reason that swirled in his gut; then Hannibal looked up at him, straight in the eyes. Will was startled by Hannibal's sudden impulse to look. but his version of startled was still a mild case of his head tilting back slightly. Hannibal held onto Will's eyes for a second, or two, questioningly and interested. But he returned to look at the wound and guide his tool.  
Will was intrigued; that he was watching someone he knew save a life, and they needed great skills to do it. 

 

The following night Hannibal was throwing a dinner party; hiring professional chefs to tend to his chosen recipes. Will had arrived with a bottle of wine; cradling it like it was some kind of a precious thing. He was a little early because he wasn't going to stay. Will watches as Hannibal explains how he uses sow's blood to give a sweet taste to one of the sauces. Will can appreciate the passion Hannibal exudes when moving his ingredients and tools around his personal space. It feels like an intimate stage almost to Will; Hannibal preparing food at the kitchen's centre island.  
'Are you sure you can't stay?' Hannibal looks up with a pleasant expression; but Will can't quite name it, it's something a bit different to pleasant.  
It makes Will feel a little taken aback.  
'Ahh, I don't think that I would be good company'. He says as he notices a waitress taking a tray of food out into the dining room; Hannibal replies:  
'I disagree'. The way he spoke this so simply and concisely, made Will's eyebrows furrow in thought when he turned his attention back to Hannibal. They made eye contact. And then in some subconscious way, Will thought that what he said sounded almost flirty. But Hannibal didn't feel the shame of what Will might of thought as Will looked at him; a little confused. He just went on with the conversation.  
'But before you go, what happened to Mr. Sylverstri's donar?'  
Will spoke conversationally, but with a hint of reverence: 'You saved his life.'  
Hannibal looked up at Will; it being brought to his attention that Will's voice changed into something a little gentle but grounding.  
'It's been a long time since I used a scalpel on anything but a pencil'. Will's friendly curiousity drives him to say:  
'Why'd you stop being a surgeon?'  
Hannibal feels happy to see that Will seems to admire this aspect to Hannibal, a saviour. Hannibal likes to think of himself in that light, now that Will is glorifying it in his own way, with quiet tenderness.  
'I killed someone. Or more accurately, i couldn't save someone, but it felt like killing them.' Will nods understandably as he listens; Hannibal's lie runs with him easily.  
'But you were an emergency room surgeon, it must happen from time to time'. He says reassuringly, a curious questioning lilt to his voice.  
'It happened one time too many. I transferred my passion for anatomy to the culinary arts. I fix minds instead of bodies, and nobody's died as a result of my therapy'. Hannibal offers a light smile and Will laughs. At this, Will glides forward and begins to say, with what seems a hint of reserve:  
'I have to go. I have a date with the Chesapeake Ripper'. He's fiddling with the bottle on the counter top where Hannibal prepares.  
'Is that ripper or rippers?' Hannibal's eyes pose to search Will's.  
'No Sylvestri was harvesting organs, but not with the ripper, there's no connection between them'.  
'Jack must be devastated'. Hannibal says as he looks down at the food he's fixing up.  
'I imagine he is'. Will says, and Hannibal notices that his tone sounds...affectionate; not because they were just talking about Jack, and Will is worried about him, but that he's just peacefully enjoying this time around Hannibal. The affection is definitely directed at Hannibal. He looks up and Will looks like he's in a trance, like something has affected him. He looks like an animal gently admiring something in that otherworldly way that animals do. His eyes focused on Hannibal's general form, but his vibe seemed like it was taking in Hannibal's spirit. Hannibal felt it to be a raw, kind look, and he felt seen in such a loving way.  
Will smiles and nods resolutely, as if to punctuate this encounter. And when his eyes look up to meet Hannibals', Will looks even kinder than his initial stare. He almost looks like a little kid; almost looks like he's bashfully smiling. Hannibal genuinely didn't expect that look on Will's face.  
He was planning to become closer with Will in a more natural and slow way; ingratiate himself into Will's life, but this was a nicer way, with Will coming to him in some middle point.  
'Enjoy the wine'. Will says as he looks down to where he's putting the wine on the counter. Hannibal's eyes quirk up at him as he says:  
'Thank you.' His eyes are glazed black with a pleased, gentle quality to them. Will smiles as he's turning away and leaves. Hannibal lets himself stare after Will as he goes, with his eyes continuing to linger at the spot where Will had exited the kitchen. 

Hannibal felt like he had gotten to know more about Will from that night's interaction, and gotten to know his feelings about Hannibal. He caught a glimpse of what Will was feeling when they talked, and he yearned to see it more. He had to reschedule the appointment that Will missed the night they caught Devon Sylvestri anyway. 

 

When Will arrived for their appointment the next night, Hannibal cracked opened Will's gifted wine.  
'Do you want a glass?'  
'Yes please'. Will sat in one of Hannibal's leather recliners in his office. Hannibal came back and gave Will a glass, before pouring some wine in. Hannibal sat down too.  
'Mm, this is good'. Hannibal chirps.  
'Yes'. Will agrees and takes another sip.  
'Where shall we begin?' Hannibal asks conversationally.  
Will remembers the daze he was in two nights ago; what did it mean to see Abigail calling him dad? With Cassie Boyle's mounted body laid out between them? Mimicking the look of a dining table; a long, stretched out banquet.  
'I hallucinated the night you showed up to the academy.'  
'Not a dream?' Hannibal confirms.  
'Maybe not really a dream. I saw Abigail across from me at my desk, and she heard you talking and said: "dad, there's someone else here."  
'How did it feel to be called her dad?'  
'It felt right like I was, but like I was Garrett Jacob Hobbs mixed in as well.'  
Hannibal looks at him and nods to himself. Will doesn't mention that the desk in the dream was actually Cassie Boyle's corpse.  
'You understand him, you understand why he did what he did. You don't just reflect at crime scenes, you absorb; so Garrett Jacob Hobbs can attach to your psyche more easily, make you become more than what you are'.  
'Yes.'  
'You're not so different to these killers Will. Their voices bring clarity'. He states.  
Will says, unsure of whether or not he should be so honest:  
'It felt easy, comfortable, to know him. See him for what he really is'.  
Hannibal listens attentively and nods again.  
'How do you see yourself, for what you really are?'  
Will suddenly looks around the room in thought.  
'A mixture of things.' He says. 'All of them good.' He smiles in a silly way.  
Hannibal almost chuckles, but smiles a wide, close-mouthed smile instead, crinkling the corners of his eyes.  
'Good'. Hannibal says resolutely.  
Will refills his glass of wine and asks Hannibal if he'd like more, before filling it up.  
Will asks after a moment:  
'How do you see yourself?'  
Even though Hannibal is the therapist, Will is having conversations with him as well, so Hannibal can afford to answer personal questions.  
'A mixture of things, like yourself. I'm a survivour, I like to think'.  
And what Hannibal thinks, sees, and judges about himself is that he doesn't really have a split personality like some have questioned about the Chesapeake Ripper, but more of a split emotional state. He's capable of great cruelty with absolutely no remorse, because in his mind, he's saving himself from the people whose vibrations slick him like oil; the ugly, the rude. But Hannibal's also capable of being nurturing, kind, even sympathetic and empathetic to an extent.  
And now he suddenly realizes that Will has consistently, and inadvertently been bringing out Hannibal's more agreeable side. Will's aura is contagious.  
'Me too'. He responds. 'I get by in life. But I can thrive too'.  
Hannibal stares in Will's eyes a moment, trying to gauge something about him.  
'Have you had any major trauma when you were younger?'  
'What? No I don't think so, why exactly?'  
'Trauma can result in a splitting of personalities. That could be why you can engage with a killer's mind and feel what they feel, like they were your own'.  
Will half smiles: 'Sometimes I almost believe that they could be be my own feelings'.  
'These thoughts are delusions disguising your reality. You have to honestly confront your limitations with what you do, and how it affects you'.  
'It's hard...'. Will half closes his eyes as he tilts his chin down.'To get rid of something...' Will trails off as he looks out a window at the dark evening light.  
Hannibal listens and watches patiently, when Will still hasn't returned to himself, Hannibal refills his own glass and Will's to break the silence purposefully.  
'Thanks'. Will says, half absently, half returning to where he is the in the moment.  
'Get rid of what?' Hannibal asks.  
'Something that's already under your skin'.  
'I know that feeling'. He says to Will and to himself, before sneaking in a pointed look at Will without his knowledge.  
'Really? What is it?'  
'Honestly, I don't think I should answer honestly'.  
'Why?'  
'I don't want things to affect anything for both of us'.  
'Okay. What do you mean?' Will's eyebrows almost furrow, but he doesn't otherwise express emotions on his face. He seems stilled.  
Hannibal looks at him.  
'It would become dangerous, for you to be around me'.  
Will's eyes start searching for meaning in what he's said.  
'Are you caught up in some dangerous, illegal scandal?' Will gives a laugh, but is seriously curious. Hannibal laughs too, almost heartily. Then he morbidly says:  
'Yes. It is something like that.'  
Will goes serious but gentle.  
'You know you can get help for it? I can help?'  
'It's ok, I don't need to be saved'.  
'But why would you stay involved if you could get out of it?'  
'Because, as you've said, it's hard to get rid of something that's already under your skin'.  
'What does that mean?' Will sounded almost frustrated; with the situation, and Hannibal's aloofness.  
Hannibal looks past Will, and decidedly says:  
'I'm the Chesapeake Ripper'.  
Will laughed then said:  
'What?' Waiting for Hannibal to tell him what was really going on with him.  
Hannibal's eyes twitched to Wills'.  
'It's true. I wanted you to know this about me, but I couldn't say, you would have arrested me'.  
Will goes completely petrified, like fossilized wood, and dryly says:  
'And why would you tell me now?' Hannibal didn't miss the suggestive inflection in Will's voice; Will was poised to retaliate an attack somewhat, maybe even try and arrest him.  
'Honestly, I want to be honest with you. And I was curious what would happen'.  
'You were just curious what I would do?' Will's eyes are frozen by the weight of reality; oppressing his movements, his bones.  
'Partly, in truth, and curious what I would do'.  
Will has been slowly backing away to the office door since he believed Hannibal was telling the truth, with Hannibal making no hints of stalking him.  
'Are you going to try and kill me Hannibal?' He says as he removes his gun from the upholster and turns the safety off.  
'No'. He says with ease.  
'Oh really? Why?' He says almost snappily.  
'Because I feel like you are under my skin too.'  
'And what do you mean by that?' Will went a little nervous; half realizing what Hannibal means, and half realizing what it could mean for him.  
'I feel like we are so alike, and that I knew you intimately from the day I met you'.  
Will immediately blushes, and after a second Hannibal says:  
'And I became infatuated with you'.  
'Hannibal'. Will says simply, breathing unevenly. 'What can I say to that? What can I do now? You've just admitted to killing people. I'm required to arrest you'. He ends flatly and confused.  
Hannibal starts walking leisurely over to Will now, and Will has already backed himself right up against the door, but Hannibal stops a few feet away.  
'You could forgive what I told you?' He asks in wonder. 'Or forget about it?'  
Will laughs bitterly, and then Hannibal makes a quick bolt for Will. He grabs his wrist with the gun, causing Will to fire twice frantically. With all his strength, he actually yanks the gun out of Will's hold. Now with the butt of the gun in his hand, he smacks it hard into the back of Will's head.... and he goes unconscious.

In a few quick, easy steps, Hannibal grabs his fake papers, cash, and clothes. All of it goes into a large duffel bag. He had tied up Will first in case he woke up and tried to make things difficult for him. So now he crouches beside his still body, as he leaves a note. But Will wakes up midway before finishing the letter; looking up at Hannibal, somewhat scared, but flabbergasted and annoyed mostly.  
'Stop it. Let me go'. Will says angrily.  
'I can't let you stop me. I was just leaving a note for you, but I'm going to call Jack to free you'.  
'Where are you going?'  
Hannibal smiles at him, avoiding the question.  
'Running away. I suspect you will go on the hunt for me, but after I call Jack, he definitely will.'  
'They'll catch you, now that they know who you are'. Hannibal catches the worry in Will's tone of voice, and the slight threat.  
'What I am'. Hannibal corrects. 'Is someone not acquitted for prison life'. He says peacefully, while bothering to finish Will's note.  
'And you don't think you have it coming?'  
'I don't indulge much with feeling regretful. But I am sorry to be leaving you like this'. He says gravely.  
'Then don't'.  
Hannibal laughs a little.  
'I've got to go. Goodbye Will'. He moves fast, out the door, leaving Will to squirm and gaze over at the note:

"Dear Will, I'm to leave and I don't know if I will see you again off in the future. But I think I'll find that I will be resolved to miss you. If only in some other world there was a place carved for me and you. Take care.  
Hannibal."

Will started feeling a throbbing pain in his head. He just lay there, feeling funny that this was how he was spending the evening; waiting for Jack, and an FBI squad inevitably, to free him and get him off of the floor. He makes a decision, and shimmies over onto his other side so that his hands tied behind his back can reach the note. He folds it up into a small square and puts it into his back pants pocket; he didn't need Jack to pour over it, or grow suspicious of Will, and Hannibal and Will's relationship...like he knew he could.  
Two hours later, the FBI arrived.  
Hannibal had expertly tied him up so that his movements were very limited. His hands were tied behind his back, his feet were tied together well, and then his hands were tied to his feet from behind with a taut rope. Jack was the one to cut his ropes loose.  
'Do you have any ideas, or clues, about where he might of gone?' Jack asks.  
'I think he'd most likely go to Europe. It would cater to a man of his tastes there'. He says dryly.

And all too right, Will is. It was where he got his first taste.

 

Will drove home and arrived at 2.30 in the morning. To be honest, Will wanted to forget that Hannibal was the ripper, because that was a simpler time. And although he resented Hannibal, was worried about his dark nature, and thought that what he did was not justified enough. He was surprised to feel like he didn't care anymore. It's like his friendship with Hannibal has overridden his knowledge of what Hannibal truly is. Actually will realizes that he's accepting what Hannibal is...bones, blood, and all the rest. And would he dare admit to himself that he likes Hannibal for what he is? He's beginning to. 

 

Hannibal had in fact gone to Europe, but after a few days in France, he decided that Russia would be a beautiful place to see first...if he ever found himself apprehended. The Siberian Taiga had always called to him; some semblance of the Lithuanian forests had reminded him of the ringing cedars of Russia.  
He had picked out a secluded cabin that was high-functioning; looking in great condition from the inside, with lacquered oak furniture. He had a fire place going and suddenly thought about Will in his home. Hannibal didn't mind life on the lamb at all; he's one to love the life of luxury and notoriety, and yet being a humble nomad is as much a part of his personality as being omnipotent is. but the fact that he was essentially running away, and the reasons why he was, didn't please him. He had to leave because Will was rejecting him, he would have rejected him, and then he would of lost his freedom too. At the heart of it, Hannibal could let himself be bitter-the taste of it was certainly on his tongue- but he would rise to the occasion; his pride, his sanity, and his desire to move on stirred him to remain neutral about his situation.  
During the first week there, Hannibal had a hypnagogic experience; where he saw a dark figure standing in his room, and he himself was paralyzed in bed. The moment passed when Hannibal was deeply arrested by a black fog. It was like gravity; pulling him under the surface, forcing him to sleep. There is some consensus about whether or not these states of wakefulness and sleep can actually involve visits from poltergeists. Because apparently the brain uses different parts of itself during sleep, and waking life. So it's like experiencing a different consciousness, or seeing another layer of reality that is more supernatural. Hannibal prepared himself for rapture in that moment, because if he saw his sister (whom he'd not even had dreams about for a decade), his heart would lurch, and his mind would want to scream because of his ever present, little desire to see her alive.  
Mischa would be 42, while Hannibal is 47, aged well with a striking facial structure; close to looking like a twin with her brother. What would she be like if she were still around? What would Hannibal be like if she was, who would he be? Hannibal can dare to think, but he doesn't when he knows little else. Other than what he had become the day someone brought an ice-pick down into his sister's skull. He's a malformation of emotions and psychology now; with a crippled morale, and a heightened sense of reality. He deals out justice to mercilessly cast out the unworthy. This is what Hannibal had become.

Off he trudges in the snow to the forests edge. Hannibal rubs his thumb against the rough texture of an axe's handle while he walks, trying to give himself a splinter. And the second he reaches the first sparse arrangements of trees, he doesn't see snow anywhere, and the trees have changed species. In another moment, like a computer glitch, he sees the snow again. Then his reality flashes away once more, as Hannibal looks down at his hands; they're not his hands that are holding a long rifle. And just as quickly as he sees 'his' hands, his perspective flashes back to his present reality in Russia. It'd been two months since Hannibal had the hypnagogic hallucination. He recognized the trees he saw to be the ones that litter Wolf Trap. It was an all too real experience for Hannibal to see 'his' hands moving in ways he had not intended them to. He suspected that they were Will's. 

 

Will stood for a second, uncertain. He could of sworn for a moment that he saw snow in his backyard. As he made his way to the thicket of trees that surround his property, he saw, or rather her felt first, something different in his hands to the rifle he had been carrying. He's horrified to see that he's holding onto an axe, thumbing it's wooden handle. As reality flashes back, he flinches and drops the gun; a physical reflex to shake off what he saw. It was very real, the hallucination, but something about it felt off.  
It's hunting season, and while Will doesn't ever usually bother with the long ritual of preparing the animal for consumption, he was craving red, wild meat. He picked his rifle up off the ground as he compose his nerves, and continued walking towards the forest when a few of his dogs started to join him. Will thought about the hands he's seen, they were definitely not his, they were bigger slightly.  
Will hears a litany of footfalls in his general vicinity before the dogs start barking. But they're not barking at anything when Will looks behind himself at the sound. He continues to scan around when he sees ahead, 100 feet into the bramble of trees, part of a stag's head. He poises himself with the gun immediately, making eye contact with it for a second, and then firing. He shoots twice, the first one striking the beast in the neck, and the other splintering a tree branch. Will impresses himself with the accuracy, but as he approached and saw it going still, he felt guilt. "The loss of the chase maybe?" He heard a voice say. Who said that? Will knew it wasn't that. It was the loss of looking into it's eyes as it strode, seeing it as it naturally is, before sending it spinning off on the circle of life.  
A few hours later, as Will prepared dinner he thought about where Hannibal might be. Would there be snow on the ground? Will was starting to suspect something as such. He felt the meat of his kill slip around in his hands with bloody mess, as he divided portions of it into vacuum sealed plastic bags, and stored them in his shed freezer. He noticed that he himself was missing Hannibal; if only things had gone differently, but then no, Will doesn't know how else it should have gone down. He definitely wouldn't of runaway with Hannibal if he offered it to Will. Will is not one to dance with the devil, but Hannibal was more than this one demonic part, he was a sum of parts.  
The next day Will received a post card with nothing written on the back, only an address. And on the other side was a picture of some traditional Russian architecture. Will recognized it as being too random to not be Hannibal. And with that Will made a decision; he flipped back to the blank space, and started to write something down:

" Hi, if it's you, I want to come and see you. If you can, don't move locations so that I can find you. I'm coming in a couple days. From Will."

 

He returns the post card to sender that afternoon at the post office. In three days Will gets his things together and calls a taxi. Will had never actually travelled out of the U.S before, finding that he was too busy or too poor to make plans. Now he waited on a long flight; tired, but with lots of leg room, and movies playing around the clock to distract him. He fell asleep half-way through his second movie: "Shawshank Redemption".  
When he arrived at the airport it was dark, and not a time to be doing anything other than sleeping, but Will was actually very alert. Sometimes it's like the evenings give Will a renewed sense of vigour, like sleep could be totally unnecessary. But he still felt dizzy, with his unused air0legs finally walking out onto the street. The breeze was very cool as he waited at a taxi bay outside the airport. He saw a few buildings that resembled the buildings of Russia on the back of his post card. He was feeling excited, and almost not nervous at all to find Hannibal. He saw a taxi coming past and flagged it down just in time for it to have to reverse a little to be right in front of Will.  
As Will instructed the driver where to go, he explained that he didn't go that far, but that he could get him to a train station, that would then take him directly to the town Hannibal lived in. The trip the driver took for him was longer than he expected, over two hours, and the train ride would be twice as long.  
Dawn started lingering as he skirted along in a carriage. The times for the trains had said that he would be arriving at his destination in five hours. And now, Will had a desire to nap, it called for him. By the time he woke up, the morning light was in full force. He still had half an hour left on his journey, so he looked at the bright white snow being illuminated in the sun. He was creeping ever closer to the man that had been deceiving him, killing the people he sought justice for. But when he got off the train and took another taxi, he knew he wanted more than what their relationship had become; silence, a deadly and ceaseless sound.  
Some of his nerves came back as he stepped out onto the front yard of Hannibal's home, 20 minutes later. Will took it in as he paid the driver; there wasn't a car, but there was a bicycle up against the side of the house. It was smaller than Will's home, but the forest surrounding it was bigger, and more dense than that of Wolf Trap. He saw some shape move in one of the windows as he walked towards the front door, and he took in air quickly. He knocked and waited, and after a minute Hannibal opened the door with a clear wolfish smile on his face. Will starts blushing as he says:  
'Hi'.  
'Hello will. I'm glad you came'.  
They both know why Will came all this way, but Will is still being careful with how he eases into it. Hannibal invited him inside to where a fire was lit, making the whole house warm and stuffy. All the furniture looked rustic compared to the more sleek and modern style of furniture in Hannibal's home in Maryland.  
'I like where you're staying'. Will says decidedly.  
'It's quite beautiful in winter, you came just in time'.  
'What would you do if I didn't come?'  
'I would feel at a loss. But I probably would try to see you again, maybe try to convince you'. Hannibal smiles at him in a loving, and vaguely sensual way.  
Will smiles.  
'I'd want you to come and find me'.  
'Seems like our roles are reversed here'. He laughs a little.  
Will laughs a little too, than a bit more heartily. Then they both smile at each other and decide to step further towards one another to have a tight embrace. Their cheeks rub up against each other, warm and intimate. Will feels a passion stir in him, as he boldly withdraws from Hannibal's face slightly, and tilts towards his mouth. He kisses Hannibal at the corner of his lips, then he turns his face a little as Hannibal moves to meet his mouth head on. Their lips are soft against one another, lips brushing, caressing, and then massaging; both of them coaxing their mouths to open more, and to use tongues. As they start pulling back, Hannibal slightly tickles Will's top lip with his tongue, Will smiles. He's not sure what the plan is from here on, apart from the fact that he wants to be with Hannibal. And he's yet to discuss the psychedelic experience he had with Hannibal- what it all means- but he's sure it has something to do with them being kindred spirits.  
Maybe they'll live in Russia, or find a place in between worlds. Either way, they'll carve out a place for both of them.


End file.
